Story by lilacgiraffe
Request by Puppiluvr
You awoke, confused and drained, the next day.
“Where the Hell...” you trailed off, rubbing your head and cringed as you touched a particularly soft spot on your skull. “Oh... right...” you carefully touch your bones to check for breaks. Deciding the you’re ok you slowly get out of the bed you were sleeping in. As you yawn, you feel an odd breeze on your bare legs. Bare. Legs.
‘Awesome.’ you think to yourself, looking for your jeans. No jeans. “This is going to be one Hell of a day, I can already tell.” quickly, you button up the flannel shirt that was just long enough to cover your butt and leave the room you were in. The fuzzy socks you had worn under your boots slipped around on the expensive looking wood that the floor was made of. Squinting your (e/c) eyes against the harsh lighting, you walked towards the sound of banging pots and laughter.
When you stepped into the room, you cringed at the smell of burning meat.
“Toni!” a French accent shouted as you leaned against the archway trying to regain your sight, “I told you to turn the burner on low!”
“Hehe...” a light, Spanish voice trickled towards you, “oops!”
“Psst, Uncle Toni,” a bubbly, Italian voice whispered, spreading silence throughout the room, “the girl is awake.”
Finally, your eyes adjust to the bright light in the shiny kitchen. Two small boys stood in the room, one holding onto a man who looked your age and the other pouting on a chair in the corner. The panicking French man rushed through the kitchen, trying to fix everything while an albino man struggled not to fall off of his chair laughing. As the man you assumed was ‘Uncle Toni’ lifted the young boy into his lap.
“Hola!” he chirped, “I’m Toni and these are mi amigos, Gilbert,” he pointed to the still chuckling albino, “and Francis.” You turned back to the stove to see Francis look at you in shock. Quickly, he rushed to your side.
“Oh, ma cherie! Look at you!” he exclaimed, examining your bruised face. Slowly, his warm hands work their way from your face to your hands. “Please come with me.” he said mournfully.
“Uh... ok?” you hardly say the words before you’re whisked to a separate room that looked like an exam room at a doctors’ office except not as uncomfortable.
“Would you mind removing your over shirt? I’d like to see what those assholes did to you.” You move to do as he says but then ideas begin running through your head.
“What if he’s going to rape me? Or kill me? Or both!?” You freeze up and Francis walks towards you, sighing.
“Sorry, dear, but, you’re not being very helpful right now.” he mutters, unbuttoning your shirt on his own. All you can do is stand and gape at him. “Now, lie down.” he murmurs, softly pushing you on to the exam table. He delicately touches your neck, then your arms, then legs, and finally, your torso. Occasionally, as he touches the battered limbs, you would wince and he would move on.
Suddenly, his hand is on your chest. “Just checking your breathing, can you take a deep breath?” You try to do as the man asks but it hurts too much.